


and if you know me, like i know you

by horlik_aholic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, M/M, Underage Drinking, excessive use of the word bro, it switches back and forth between past and present a lot but i hope its easy enough to keep up with, like seriously so much "bro"ing especially between Niall and Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horlik_aholic/pseuds/horlik_aholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They promised each other they’d keep in touch, but it wasn’t something that even needed to be discussed-- of course they’d keep in touch. They were Zayn and Niall.</p><p>Now Niall’s a senior in high school, newly 17 and ready to breeze through this last year and take on college next fall. He hasn’t heard from Zayn in 3 years.</p><p>or, Zayn moves to Niall's town after 3 years of not talking and Niall is coping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and if you know me, like i know you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acue/gifts).



> I sincerely hope you like this fic. Sorry if I've taken too many liberties with your original prompt, but I quite enjoyed writing it. Title from the song "Friends" by Ed Sheeran. If you don't know it you should check it out!!
> 
> Thank you to my pain in the ass beta (he knows who he is).
> 
> I owe a a huge, huge, HUGE thank you and apology to Lex. I was an absolutely nightmare and didn't get this in even close to on time. I'm so sorry from all the stress I have caused you and I hope you know it wasn't intentional, I just really suck. Thank you so much for moderating this exchange and for putting up with me and for giving me so many chances. I can't apologize enough, thank you for your endless patience even though I absolutely did not deserve it. 
> 
> All mistakes are my on, please don't share this with the boys or anyone who knows the boys. Enjoy!!

Niall stands as his classmates begin to file out of the room, all eager to be anywhere but last period Spanish class on a warm Friday afternoon. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way to Harry's locker. Harry is already there waiting for Niall as he approaches, grin stretched wide across his face. He snatches his keys out of the air from where Harry tosses them at him, both turning towards the exit when Harry finally speaks. 

"Bro," Harry starts, and Niall just barely manages to get in his own customary "bro" in response before Harry's launching into a story about a rousing game of Scrabble he'd played with Gemma the previous night. He's saying something about "vibey" being an adjective when an unexpectedly familiar face pulls away Niall's attention. There's a boy, putting all of his things into what Niall knows was once the empty locker beside his friend Sandy's. A new kid, no doubt, but Niall definitely recognizes him. 

His brain is reacting before Niall can really even put his finger on who exactly this boy is, summoning long since buried memories to the forefront of his mind. 

Endless summers nights by the fire, perpetually sunburned skin, murky but refreshing lake water, a cabin that had once felt like a second home to Niall. Playing frisbee in the grass, sharing fries at dinner, swiping extra milkshakes from the dining hall and sneaking out after curfew. Zayn's smile. 

Niall blinks, getting a good long look at the boy before forcing himself to tune back into Harry's story. He mentally berates himself, angry to have even thought of him. 

That couldn't have been him. 

* * *

 "Promise we'll keep in touch?" 

They look at each other, and for a moment the question hangs between them unanswered. It only lasts a beat before they both break out into laughter at the absurdity of the question. Of course they'd keep in touch. They were inseparable, joined at the hip, two peas in a pod and any other cliches you cared to throw at them. They were Zayn and Niall. 

A little distance had never changed that in the past and certainly wouldn't in the future, they would make sure of it. 

* * *

Niall’s mostly forgotten about the new Zayn-look-alike kid by the time Harry pulls into the Senior parking lot Monday morning. Its still early enough in the school year that the sun is already beating down on them through the windshield, and Niall quickly slides his sunglasses on before flipping up the sun visor.  

Unfortunately, he miscalculates exactly the amount of space he needs for the visor to clear his face, and ends up wacking himself in the middle of his forehead. He lets out a pained grunt, instinctively turning his head away from the visor and towards the window as Harry laughs at him. 

He’s got his hand to his forehead, rubbing small circles on the red spot that has since appeared, when he spots the boy again. He is getting out of his car, two rows up and four spots over, and again Niall is struck by his impossible resemblance to Zayn. 

He can’t even find it in himself to be angry at the thought of Zayn like he had on Friday, instead lets himself drown in it.

 

They’d first met when he was 10 and Zayn was 11, Niall attending the sleep-away summer camp in New Hampshire for the first time while Zayn had been going since he was 8. 

Niall had gotten placed in Cabin 9 bunk 4, where there was a vacancy. Zayn was bunk 3, directly beneath him, and against all odds they’d taken to each other immediately. 

As far as their camp mates were concerned, Zayn and Niall were different in nearly every way-- appearance, personality, disposition, interests, even their heights at the time. Though they were almost exactly the same height by age 14, when Niall first arrived at the camp he was a full head shorter than Zayn. None of that mattered. They were inseparable all throughout their years together, and even during the rest of the year when they weren’t spending every hour together at camp they managed to keep in constant contact. 

They aged out of the camp officially the summer before 9th grade, Zayn 14 and Niall a few weeks away from 14. They promised each other they’d keep in touch, but it wasn’t something that even needed to be discussed-- of course they’d keep in touch. They were Zayn and Niall.

Now Niall’s a senior in high school, newly 17 and ready to breeze through this last year and take on college next fall. He hasn’t heard from Zayn in 3 years.

 

Harry taps on the glass of the window hard three times, and Niall’s attention snaps to him. His voice is muffled through the glass but Niall hears him anyways, “Niall, you know I’m all for meditating and self-reflection, but now may not be the best time bro. If you’d like, we can sit down together later and--”

Niall pushes the door open, jolting Harry back and effectively shutting him up before he could offer Niall a yoga and mental cleansing session, complete with kale smoothies and the soothing sounds of the Amazon Rainforest. He’d tried it a few times before, just to humor Harry, but. Reaaaally not Niall’s thing.

“Sorry bro I’m coming. Spaced out.”

Harry perks up at that, “Yoga can actually--”

“You know what, I think I’m good for now bro. Let’s get to class, yeah?”

* * *

"I think that I'm--" Zayn stopped, the nervousness he always felt when thinking about this increased tenfold by the prospect of saying it out loud. Saying it out loud makes it more real somehow, and he's read enough to know that this is a universally acknowledged fact. He also knows that it's real whether he says it out loud or not, and that the first person you tell is always the hardest, and that his best friend sitting beside him illuminated only by the dying light of the fire is the least judgmental person Zayn's ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

None of these things make it any easier. Niall says nothing, knows Zayn well enough to know that he'll speak when he's ready. Whenever he does finally gather his thoughts enough to speak, it's always like a small reward to Niall for his patience to hear Zayn's insight. He always feels a little sorry for their shout-y friends who never truly get the pleasure of hearing whatever it is that Zayn's got on his mind. 

Zayn sucks in a breath, as he always does when he's about to say something. He shifts almost imperceptibly, making himself smaller as he softly addresses Niall, "I like boys." He doesn't give Niall a chance to respond before he's plowing on with a speech so meticulously crafted that if Niall didn't know any better, he'd think Zayn rehearsed beforehand. 

"I'm sorry, if that makes you uncomfortable, and that I only told you now during the last weeks of our final year here. I've been working through a lot of confusing thoughts and I've never told anyone this before so it's all a bit new for me. I don't want anything to change--" 

He stops abruptly at the sound of Niall's laughter, cheeks flaring up as Niall's braces come into full view with the action. He knew he shouldn't have said anything... shouldn't have ruined his last few weeks of camp by weirding out his best friend and making a complete fool of himself for trying to share something so personal. 

Mortified, he stands to leave. 

Niall's laugh cuts off immediately as he realizes what's happening, shooting an arm out to catch Zayn's wrist. 

"Hey, Zayn wait! Christ, sorry, laughing was a stupid thing to do. Of course you're not making me uncomfortable and I'm so happy you decided to share something so important with me. I was laughing at the thought of you imagining me being weirded out, bro!" 

Zayn's arms, which had been crossed tightly, slacken a bit. "Yeah?" 

Niall's expression softens, "Course Zayn. You're my best mate, nothing's gonna ever change that. 'Specially not something like this." Pausing, he gives Zayn a chance to say more. When no response comes except for a shaky but grateful smile, the blonde takes the hint and launches into a particularly animated retelling of their favorite scary story. 

It’s only later, when they're each tucked into there respective bunks, light snores from four fellow 13 and 14 year olds chorusing around them, that Niall whispers quietly, "Hey Zayn?" 

Zayn's response comes just as softly, so as not to disturb their sleeping camp mates, "Yeah." 

There’s a pause as Niall listens hard, picking out separate sounds from each of the other four to ensure they really are sleeping before whispering, "For what it's worth? I like boys too." 

* * *

"So when did you first know?" Niall sees Zayn shift his laptop screen forward, angling so that he was centered in the Skype box. 

He frowns for a pause, considering the question. As always, Niall waits patiently for a response. 

Finally, he sucks in a breath. "Well, I reckon maybe I've always known. But if you're looking for a specific moment when I was actually like 'oh. this is a thing.' it was after a few months after my 13th birthday when I was about ready to head off to camp for the summer." He pauses again, smiling at Niall through their computer screens. 

Zayn rarely speaks so much in one go, but Niall waits, knowing he’s got more to say. "I was saying goodbye to some friends from school and Danny said something about being sorry that I had to spend the summer with a bunch of dudes and I realized that I wasn't." Pause. "Sorry, that is. Girls are great, but they're not what I want. I guess that was really where it started, though it wasn’t necessarily always that simple. How about you?" 

Niall just shrugs, taking a bite out of his sandwich. "Snogged my mate Harry a couple years ago on a dare. S’pretty much the same as snogging girls, except better-- which. Once I had that thought, it was pretty easy to convince myself that I’m into blokes.” He shrugs again as he looks back at Zayn.

They lock eyes through their screens and Zayn can’t help but envy Niall. Things are just _that_  easy for him, in a way that they never could be for Zayn. It’d taken him months of trying to convince himself that it was just a lapse in judgement, that it was  _girls_  that he’d truly wanted, not boys.

The way Zayn was feeling about Niall at this very moment was enough to prove his past self otherwise.

* * *

Niall’s not exactly panicking but-- Zayn-look-alike is in his 7th period History class. Aaaaaand to make matters worse-- his name also, coincidentally, happens to be Zayn. It's cool, it's fine, Niall's not panicking, he _isn't_. 

 

Niall’s definitely panicking.

How could this be his Zayn? They’d calculated it one lazy afternoon by the lake during their free hour; his Zayn lived 28 hours away by car and even longer by train or bus.

Yet here he was, sitting in Niall’s American History class like he’s been here his whole life. Like he hadn’t stopped being a part of Niall’s over 3 years ago. 

He pays absolutely zero attention during class, keeps replaying in his mind Zayn’s reaction to hearing Niall’s name during role call. His head had snapped in Niall’s direction, settling on the blonde immediately with a resignation in his eyes not unlike what Niall had felt when the teacher had called Zayn’s name and confirmed his sinking suspicions. As soon as they locked gazes, he was gone again, turning his head back towards the front so quickly Niall felt a little shocked he hadn’t sustained a neck injury.

He has every intention of approaching Zayn after class, but only as the bell rings does he register that he’d never actually planned out what to say. Deciding to just wing it, Niall takes a deep breath and starts in Zayn’s direction. He doesn’t get the chance though-- Zayn’s up and out of the room in record time, leaving Niall confused and a little hurt, just like he’d been when Zayn ran out of his life without warning last time, too. 

* * *

They’re drunk. Niall had somehow managed to not only acquire a handle of vodka on their last trip to town for groceries, but he’d also managed to smuggle it on to the camp ground. Zayn doesn’t even ask anymore, just accepts that Niall is magic. 

Not even half the bottle is gone and they’re both already down for the count. 

“Yeah, sure I been drunk before!” Niall’d boasted as he’d popped open the bottle earlier that night, “M’Irish. It’s in me blood, just because I moved to America when I was 6 doesn’t change that! I was havin’ pints at family gatherings by the time I was 9!” He’d laid on his Irish accent-- which had mostly faded from his years in the states-- a little bit thicker to emphasize his point.

Now though, with Niall slumped across Zayn’s legs in the woods by the dining hall, it became clear that not-quite-14 year old may have been exaggerating. 

Zayn’s never been drunk before and he’s not really sure how he feels about it yet, though he won’t deny how pleasant it is to have Niall’s weight heavy on his thighs.

“This... is fuckin’ great,” Niall slurs, pushing himself up so he’s half sitting, using Zayn’s chest to support his back. “M’so glad we did this Zaynie.” He grins, eyes mostly shut from the combined force of the smile and alcohol clouding his senses.

Through a haze, Zayn laughs and silently agrees. He may not know how he feels about being drunk, and the woods around him may be spinning slightly, but he’s so glad he’s here, in this moment with Niall, making memories.

“Awwww,” Niall sits up straighter, getting a better look at Zayn, “Zayn’s a sentimental drunk. You’re a sentimental drunk!” He must have said that out loud. It’s a little hard for him to differentiate what he’s saying in his head and what’s actually coming out of his mouth.

Zayn just laughs again, licking his lips absentmindedly. Maybe he is a sentimental drunk. “Maybe, yeah.”

“Zayn,” Niall says, suddenly very serious as he looks at Zayn intently, “Have you ever kissed a bloke before?”

Zayn licks his lips again, surprisingly not nervous at all. ‘Liquid courage’ he remembers his dad calling alcohol a few years ago, when he’d caught Doniya drinking for the first time. He finally understands the phrase. “Nah, I haven’t like. Never had the opportunity.”

Neither of them remember who initiated it, but although they don’t bring it up in the morning, both remember kissing until they finally made their way back to their cabin, giggling and sleepy and drunk off more than just the alcohol.  

* * *

The rest of the week continues much the same, though by Thursday Niall’s given up entirely. Clearly Zayn has no interest in talking to him, as much as that stings, and Niall’s pride keeps him from making further attempts at talking to Zayn.

“Ya alright, mate?” Liam asks, pausing the game to look at Niall, “You’re clearly off, even Harry’s beating you right now.”

“Heyyyyy,” Harry responds indignantly, throwing Liam a pout before turning his attention to Niall as well, “Though he is right. You’ve been distracted all week.”

Niall sighs, surprised he’d even managed to make it this long without them noticing. He doesn’t even bother arguing with them because Liam’s right-- it’s a rare day when Harry can manage to even score on Niall’s team in FIFA, yet today Niall’s losing to him 8-2. “Liam, we didn’t know you yet, but Haz-- do you remember my mate Zayn from camp a few years ago?”

Harry’s eyes open comically wide in realization, and Niall would laugh if the whole situation wasn’t stressing him out so much. “Shit, I didn’t even make the connection. That him then?” 

“Yeah,” Niall confirms, before turning to Liam who just looks a bit lost. “Zayn was my best friend for years. He lived halfway across the country and we only ever saw each other in the summer but it worked and now he apparently goes to our school.”

Liam seems to get that Niall doesn’t really want to talk about it, which Niall is grateful for. They all know Harry will just fill him in later anyways.  

* * *

“Hey Zayn?” Niall’s voice crackles over Zayn’s speaker, makes him look up from his studying. They lock eyes and Niall waits a moment, following the arch of Zayn’s eyebrow as he lifts it in a silent question. He wishes he wasn’t doing this over Skype, wishes he could talk to Zayn in person and see him in person and be with him in person. But for now he’ll have to settle.

It’s been over 2 months since their kiss, both now well into their Freshman year of high school, and they haven’t even approached the subject. Niall had planned to, after they both woke up late with matching hangovers and a rightfully suspicious cabin counselor not really buying their synchronized stomach bug story. They’d finally convinced him to allow them to skip the day’s activities as long as they agreed to random bed checks throughout the day, which they’d happily agreed to. Niall spent the whole day in bed, feeling miserable and swapping complaints with his best friend in the bunk below him as he’d contemplated how to best bring it up.

In the end he never did, hoping Zayn would do it instead.

Now here he was, finally doing it 2 months late and through a computer screen. Not exactly ideal.

“Remember, during that last week of camp, how we snuck out and got drunk by the clearing?”

Zayn’s hand stills where he’d returned to his notes, looking up cautiously to meet Niall’s eyes once more. “Yeah…” he begins, eyeing Niall warily.

“I don’t know what that meant to you, and I know we’ve never talked about it, but.” Niall pauses, studying Zayn’s face to try to gauge his reaction, “It meant a lot to me. We were both drunk and it was stupid but I wish it hadn’t stopped just because we were sober. In fact,” he shrugs, trying to maintain at least a façade of detached indifference, “I kinda would rather kiss you sober.” So much for the façade.

Zayn’s quiet for a long moment, eyes wide but unreadable over the poor internet connection. “Niall…I’ve liked you for a long—” He finally starts to speak when he hears Zayn’s mother’s voice calling to him from a different room. He jerks his head towards the door in surprise, slumping his shoulders in defeat before he finally looks back at Niall. “I gotta go, my mom’s calling. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, same time as usual. Okay?”

He ends the video call before Niall can even respond.

Zayn doesn’t call tomorrow. He doesn’t even call the next day. In fact—he never actually calls. He ignores Niall’s texts and the few times Niall tries to video call him, the call is rejected almost immediately. It takes a full 5 weeks for Niall to give up altogether.

* * *

Niall’s trashed.

“Here, take this—” Harry stumbles forward, shoving yet another red cup half full with liquid into Niall’s hands.

He takes it appreciatively, giving Harry a hard thump on the back. “Bro,” he slurs, holding tight onto his friend’s upper arm for balance, “This is why I fucking love you.”

Harry just laughs, knocking his own cup against Niall’s before declaring, “Bottom’s up,” as they both promptly throw back their drinks in 3 big gulps.

Once Harry had finally gotten Liam in the know with the whole Zayn situation, it hadn’t taken much convincing for them to get Niall agree to come out with them that weekend. He needed to get drunk, maybe find a quick hook-up for the night, and go home relaxed and sated.

“You just need a night to de-stress and let loose for a while,” Liam had told him wisely.

“Right, and in the morning you both can come with me to my 8am yoga class. It’s a great detox and it’ll help soothe your mind Niall,” Harry had unhelpfully added. Niall just agreed until he finally shut up.

And now, with beer and an unidentifiable vodka running heavy through his veins, Niall couldn’t agree with Liam more. This was _exactly_ what he needed.

The house was packed with people, both from their high school and the rival school across town. It belonged to Harry’s mate, some fellow called Tomlinson. Harry’d promised that the party would be a good one, and Niall couldn’t deny that he’d been right. There were three separate beer pong tables and 2 kegs set up on the main floor alone.

Him and Harry part ways, Harry spotting a friend, and Niall goes off to search for Liam. He finds him in the corner of the living room, talking to an undoubtedly beautiful woman. Though Liam seems to be doing pretty well on his own, Niall’s drunk enough that he manages to convince himself that his friend definitely needs a Niall shaped wingman by his side. He’s stumbling over to where the pair are stood when his right side slams hard into a body that he hadn’t even noticed a moment ago. He backs up in a daze, turning to apologize to the person he slammed into.

The guys cuts off his apology with a laugh, “No worries mate, just maybe wait a while before having another drink, yeah?” But Niall doesn’t hear a word of what the bloke says as he catches sight of the person he’s talking. Standing there, not five feet from him, is the elusive Zayn Malik.

Niall points his finger at Zayn accusingly, anger and hurt and confusion rushing back at him in an instant, “You’ve been avoiding me at school. Actually, yeh’ve been avoiding me for 3 years.”

Zayn looks uncomfortable, unsteady on his feet as he turns to his friend for help.  Niall’s about to continue when he’s cut off once again by Zayn’s friend, “Hey mate, my name’s Louis. Tomlinson. Nice to meet you.”

Hearing his name is enough to distract Niall for a moment, as he turns towards his host and wobbles a bit. “Oh, hey bro heard a lot about you. M’friends with Harry. Sick party, sorry again for—” He stops as Zayn’s retreating form catches his eye. At risk of being rude, he leaves Louis standing there as he follows Zayn’s back disappearing through the crowd.

He just barely manages to follow Zayn to where he’s attempted to escape to the back porch, helped by the fact that Zayn’s definitely drunk too as they stumbled through the house. When he finally catches up to him, Niall’s thankful that they’re outside. He needs a little fresh air to get his thoughts straight and there are way fewer people in the cool autumn air.

They stand there just looking at each other, like they used to all those years ago at camp, before Niall finally speaks.

“What the fuck man?” Niall remembers, remembers how Zayn is. And Niall waits.

He stalls, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the inside pocket and lights up. He offers one to Niall and Niall just shakes his head, still waiting on Zayn.

Finally, after a long drag on his freshly lit cigarette, Zayn exhales the smoke and speaks. “Hi, Niall.”

Niall _knows_ Zayn. He knows that Zayn’s done speaking for the moment, but still. He waits. When Zayn, predictably, doesn’t add anything, Niall laughs. “That’s it? 3 years of not speaking and that’s all you’ve got to say? ‘Hi Niall’? Bullshit Zayn. What—” his voice cracks, and he takes a steadying breath before continuing, “What happened? Why did you just disappear?”

Zayn takes another deep sighs, smoking billowing from his mouth in a cloud and marring the clear night sky. He stands there, looking at Niall appraisingly.

Niall knows Zayn, Niall can predict Zayn. But Niall can’t predict it when Zayn pulls Niall close and kisses him hard, so different from that one kiss all that time ago. The Zayn that Niall knew kissed softly, timid, like he had a blank book in front of him and a pen in his hand to fill in the pages however he pleased.

This Zayn is different, though. This Zayn kisses like he’s trying to make up for something, kisses like someone with regrets. Niall’s thoughts are slow, impaired by alcohol, and he registers that he likes the taste of smoke on Zayn’s lips more than he thought he would before he pulls away. He takes in Zayn’s face, open and confused, and laughs. “Now you know how it feels I guess, Zaynie. To be left without understanding why. Did you not like me back? You could have _told_ me, you know. I would have understood. I didn’t want this, I didn’t want—fuck, you were my best friend Zayn. I didn’t want to lose my best friend.”

Zayn looks wrecked when he responds, lips red and chapped, as he responds desperately, “Fuck Niall, no. That’s not it, that was never it. I was scared. You were the only person who knew—the only person for years who ever knew what I was too afraid to share with others. The kiss—fuck,” he pauses to laugh, a little bitter, “Telling you made it real. The kiss was what really fucking did it, though. Fuck, I’m too drunk for this.” He scrubs his hands over his face.

Niall’s feeling surprisingly sober. He’s not, but he feels it. “You were scared?”

“Fucking terrified, Niall,” he sounds exasperated, and he laughs again, “So fucking cliché. My parents didn’t even know, and here I was, a thousand or more miles away from you and half in love with you. What was I supposed to do once I found out you felt the same way? I was 14 and scared and I had no clue. So I did what I do best, I hid. And the more time I spent avoiding you, the harder it became to face you.”

For once, Niall was speechless. How was he supposed to come up with an appropriate response to that when his blood-alcohol content was easily over a .10?

“I fucked up, Niall,” Zayn continues, “And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret it.”

Silence hangs between them for a beat too long.

“Zayn—” Niall begins slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Do you remember, the last time we talked, how I told you I wanted to kiss you while sober?”

Zayn’s eyes are dark, guarded when he nods.

“Well, the offer still stands. If you wanted to, ah,” Niall stops to rub at his neck s Zayn takes a curious step closer, “If you wanted to take this conversation up again another day. Maybe tomorrow, for a hangover lunch?”

Niall gulps as Zayn steps even closer, finally with him in person and right where Niall wanted him to be 3 years ago. “I’d like that Niall. A lot. My number hasn’t changed and—I promise I’ll answer your calls this time. One more question for right now, though?”

“Yeah, sure, anything Zayn,” Niall responds probably a bit too eagerly.

“Just because you’d rather kiss sober, does that mean we have to stop kissing now?”

Niall laughs, a loud, surprised burst drawn from his chest at Zayn's question. He grins, "Never said that, did I?"

Zayn barely waits for him to finish speaking, fingers curling around Niall's hip as he pulls him in for another kiss. This time, Niall's expecting it. He melts into Zayn's grasp, fisting his fingers into the hem of his shirt. Their lips meet again and again, Zayn backing Niall against the house and bracketing the blonde between his thighs. Niall groans, still drunk but not drunk enough to stop him from acknowledging the weight of this moment. Zayn doesn't let him reflect on it for long though, noticing Niall's shift in attention and pulling away with a soft smile. 

He's still panting, looking thoroughly debauched when he takes a deep breath and asks, "Stay here with me tonight, yeah? Was planning on using Lou's spare bedroom anyways, and you're definitely not fit to drive, like. We could have hangover breakfast together instead. If you wanted..."

Niall smiles. This is the Zayn he knows. He goes in for another kiss before answering, gently sucking on Zayn's lower lip and pulling away slowly. "Lead the way, Zaynie."

Grabbing Niall's hand, he leads them through the house where the crowd has thinned significantly. The kitchen clock indicates the hour approaching 2:00 am as they make their way towards the stairs, laughing and stumbling the whole way. 

"Christ could this be taking any longer?" Niall whines when they're halfway up the stairs, body pressed tight against Zayn's back and mouthing at his neck.

Zayn lets out a loud laugh, eyes crinkling with it, and Niall stumbles a bit from the familiarity of it, "20 whole seconds is too long to wait, huh? Y'always were impatient. Though it might be a bit quicker if you weren't plastered to my back, yeah?" 

"20 seconds?" Niall mumbles into Zayn's ear, prompted by the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream, "Try 3 years." 

They make it to the room in five seconds flat once Niall takes Zayn's advice. Once Zayn's got the door closed behind them, Niall wastes no time pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his thighs and reconnecting their lips. "Finally," he groans into Zayn's mouth, wrapping his fingers in Zayn's hair and pulling lightly. Zayn goes slack, letting Niall take control of the kiss as he struggles to keep up. Their mouths move together, slick and sweet with desire as they both struggle to make up for lost time. 

Niall rucks up Zayn's shirt, gasping at the tattoos scattered around his torso. He pulls away from Zayn completely, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. Zayn discards it quickly, putting his upper body on display where Niall's gaping at him. "These are new." He ducks his head, scanning over every visible tattoo. Niall's fingers skitter lightly over the heart on his hip, left hand sweeping along his sleeve. He stops at the microphone, pressing two fingers to it harder than he meant to. "Still singing, then?"

Zayn's smile is a little lopsided, "Yeah. Started recording some stuff back home before the move, like. Can't believe you remember."

"You'd be surprised by how much I remember, Z. Still know you, yeah? You may be this tough smoking tattooed guy now but you're still the same Zayn I've always known."

Rolling off of Zayn, Niall makes a mental note to take a closer look at each tattoo next time he gets the chance. He positions himself even with Zayn on the bed, on his side with an arm supporting his head. Zayn watches him, smile still on his face as he takes a deep breath and responds, "Maybe, yeah."

* * *

 

Niall wakes up with his face pressed against Zayn's bare chest, mouth open and drooling on the pair of lips tattooed to his sternum. He can feel Zayn's hand wrapped lightly around his wrist at their side, and he's starting to stir now, too. Zayn's hair, so much longer than Niall's ever seen it, is sticking up wildly from where Niall'd been pulling the night before. They fell asleep shortly after Niall had reminded Zayn that they still know each other, no matter what may have changed since they last spoke. 

"Hey," Zayn rasps, voice thick with sleep. 

"So, I was thinking..." Niall begins, sitting up to look at Zayn, "How do you feel about morning breath?"

The question surprises a laugh out of Zayn, and he rubs hard at his eyes to wake himself up. "Usually not so great, but I'm willing to make an exception."

"Great," Niall grins, tweaking Zayn's nipple before pulling him in. Its sweet and slow, edges of sleep finally starting to fade from each of them as they kiss lazily, sunlight curling around them. Niall's stomach growls loudly, ruining the moment, and they break away to laugh. 

"Some things never change I s'pose," Zayn's tongue presses against the backs of his teeth, "And I'll take that as the cue for hangover breakfast."

Niall's still in his clothes from the previous night, but Zayn grabs a shirt from his backpack, giving it a cursory sniff test before pulling it over his head.

"Captain America, huh?" Niall snickers, motioning towards the shirt, "Some things never change."

Louis is already at the table, bowl of cereal in front of him. Harry's at the table as well, hair in a bun and banana in hand. "Well! Look who we've got here then, couple of lovebirds," Louis announces to Harry, who's trying unsuccessfully to hid his grin behind the banana. 

Rolling his eyes, Niall nods at Louis before addressing Harry, "Why am I not surprised that you're here?"

Harry ignores Niall's question, looking at him pointedly and gesturing towards Zayn without subtlety. He wiggles his eyebrows with a wink. "Not just me, Liam's passed out on the couch. Would've pulled last night if he had any idea of to hold his liquor which, clearly, he does not." He raises his voice a bit, "Isn't that right Liam?"

Liam just grunts miserably from the couch in the adjoining room, and Zayn and Niall laugh as they join Harry and Louis at the breakfast table. 

Zayn makes both of them microwaveable waffles- always the charmer- as they catch up, with Harry interrupting to complain about missing his yoga session and Louis going on about tryouts for a semi-pro soccer team after high school, but neither of them mind. Liam's adding his own input from his place in the living room and its nice, the five of them clicking like they've known each other forever. 

As they talk, Niall takes note of the way Zayn drowns his breakfast in maple syrup- he always used to have them dry when they went to camp together. He smiles when he notices that Zayn's watching him too, neither of them listening to Harry's story about he revolved triangle pose, and Niall can't wait to find out what new things he can learn about Zayn now that they have all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)


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